


lost my head, he gave me head

by hoard



Series: across the multiverse [6]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe - Fusion, Inspired by Skins (UK), M/M, Pining, Sexual Tension, Sharing a Bed, Underage Drug Use
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-26
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-07-19 23:36:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 857
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19982422
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hoard/pseuds/hoard
Summary: He always does this, comes soft and caring into Harry’s life, so unlike how he is with everyone else, offering up affection like he’s doing Harry a favor, just being a good mate, and not as if he’s the one who actually needs and wants this, coming up with excuses so that he can have it, so that all the blame is put on Harry’s feet.





	lost my head, he gave me head

**Author's Note:**

  * For [milkandhoney](https://archiveofourown.org/users/milkandhoney/gifts).



His mobile vibrates itself right off his nightstand, dropping to the floor with a dull thud that’s loud in the silence of Harry’s room, shocking him awake. His eyes dart around in the darkness, hand shooting out to grab his wand, tucked safe beneath his pillow. He mutters _lumos_ under his breath, light casting about the space, including his mobile, face down and still vibrating. 

Harry shudders out an annoyed huff and flicks his wand at it. It jumps up and onto his bed. He ends his spell and thumbs at the screen once he takes it into his hand, seeing fifty-odd messages from Draco of all people. He scrolls up to the last time the spoke and witnesses the real-time devolution of Draco’s drunkenness, how he started off rudely asking Harry to come out with him — offering to help Harry get over his audition from earlier that day that Harry had mentioned to him having went rather badly — and it all degraded from there. The last message says that he’s outside and wants Harry to let him in.

A banging comes from Harry’s window, Draco’s blond head hovering just above the sill. 

“Are you mad?” he hisses, careful not to be too loud and wake his parents. He slides out from his bed and gets the window open, hauling Draco inside. Their flat is on the ninth floor of the council estate, and Harry’s room doesn’t face the porch. The boy has a death wish, especially when he’s wasted. 

“‘ello gorgeous,” Draco grins the words more than he says him. Harry knows instantly what sort of night this is going to be, though the texts should have tipped him off. It’s so hard to know with Draco, the way he treats everything like a laugh. 

He always does this, comes soft and caring into Harry’s life, so unlike how he is with everyone else, offering up affection like he’s doing Harry a favor, just being a good mate, and not as if he’s the one who actually needs and wants this, coming up with excuses so that he can have it, so that all the blame is put on Harry’s feet. 

“Not tonight D, seriously,” Harry sighs. “Let's get the sleeping bag out for you, ay?” 

Frowning, Draco says, “What, won’t even share your bed with me? I’m not worried you’ll jump me in my sleep and have your wicked way with me.”

Harry groans, getting up from where he’d landed on the floor with Draco. “I’m not a hobby, Draco,” he says. “Can’t just pick me up when you feel like it. ‘sides, I didn't even ask you over, you know? I was dead asleep.” 

“Back to bed with us, then,” Draco says, like it’s all decided, sorted neatly and wrapped up in a bow. He stands up too, reaching back over his shoulder to pull his nice jumper over his head. He casts it to the floor, uncaring that he’s making a mess. He kicks off his shoes and shoves his trousers down until he can kick those off too. 

Draco settles himself in on what he knows is Harry’s side of the bed, fluffing the pillow behind him. “Alright then,” he declares, “In with ya. I’d like to get some sleep in before the sun rises, Harry, cheers.”

Harry cannot stand him, half the time. The other half he’s charmed despite himself, wishes he was more like Draco, secure in himself, unafraid of making demands with the utter faith that the world will bend it itself to make it so. 

He gets into the opposite side of the bed and doesn’t allow himself to react when Draco rolls over into his space, throwing a leg over both of Harry’s, pressing his face into Harry’s neck. 

The most annoying thing about this — whatever this is-type thing of theirs is that Draco is...the worst, really. In a literal sort of way. The farthest they’ve ever gone together wasa Draco giving him head, since Harry can’t bear to bring himself to reciprocate out of fear of how insufferable Draco will be about it. Besides, Harry actually is great at it. 

For all Draco’s enthusiasm and gusto, he can’t quite manage to pull it off when he’s on the serving end, and for that Draco certainly doesn’t deserve the best blowjob of his life, not while Harry has anything to say about it. What they do instead is kiss mostly, and to Harry’s annoyance, Draco isn’t half bad at that, at least.

While Harry’s caught up in sulking, Draco manages to snake his hand into Harry’s. He drifts off to sleep without a fucking care in the world, secure that Harry will look out for him, fix him a cuppa in the morning, make sure he eats something. And of course Harry will, and he won’t actually mind it half as much as his complaining might suggest. 

Draco’s hand tightens on his in his sleep, like he’s afraid Harry will abandon him while his guard is down, and that’s reason enough for why Harry had opened the window in the first place — why he always does.


End file.
